The Dark Path to Redemption
by Scientist In Training
Summary: An anonymous figure referring to themselves as "Atem" threatens to expose the secrets of the past that Seto thought he had buried long ago. Meanwhile, a security consultant named Kisara uncovers a despicable scheme at a local orphanage with all of the evidence pointing to Seto as the mastermind.
1. Prologue and Introduction

_Summary_

* * *

After years of keeping both his name and the Kaiba Corporation out of trouble, Seto's world is turned upside-down when he begins receiving messages from an anonymous figure who calls themselves Atem, threatening to reveal dark secrets from his past that could topple everything he has worked to create. At the same time, a young security consultant named Kisara uncovers a despicable scheme at the most underfunded orphanage in Domino City, crimes that appear to implicate Seto Kaiba himself.

* * *

 _Prologue_

* * *

Seto Kaiba sits alone in his office, filling out paperwork at his desk. The lights of Domino City glow dimly from the window behind him, obscured by a thick fog that clings to everything like dense cotton.

He has always been a workaholic, but it has only gotten worse since Autumn. In Autumn he helped Mokuba move from their estate to a cramped cinderblock room at a prestigious university with red-brick buildings that rise like sentinels from immaculate emerald-green lawns. Mokuba promises to call, but he's busy; he has a programming assignment due at midnight, and an essay due on Sunday that he hasn't started, and his TA is hosting a round of icebreaker games at seven, _so, I mean, maybe later, big brother?_

At least Seto still has his work, into which he throws himself wholeheartedly. He works on Kaiba Corp's patented virtual-reality software. He works on a new on-the-go Duel Monsters game, which can be run from any smartphone device. He starts a new program, the Young Paladins foundation, which focuses on implementing enrichment programs in local orphanages. Truth be told, he doesn't stop working. He just switches from one project to another, ignoring the bags under his eyes and the way his clothes are beginning to hang more loosely. He needs to be fitted for new clothes, but he hasn't been able to find the time.

 _Ding_. Seto frowns at the noise from his cell phone, which lies on a corner of his desk. Few people have access to his private number. Grumbling irritably to himself about the interruption, he grabs the phone to look at the new message. He thought that he had blocked all spam texts, but phishing schemes are getting more advanced by the day…

His heart stops cold at the name on the screen. It is a name he hasn't heard in years, one that still sends electricity crackling through his veins like a jolt of lightning. It is so startling to him that he forgets that they never had his personal cell phone number, to begin with.

 _ **New Message:**_ _Atem_

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Seto opens the text message.

 _Atem: TURN ON THE NEWS_

Whoever is messaging him is already typing another message, as indicated by the ellipses in a message bubble at the corner of the screen.

 _Atem: CHANNEL 10_

x

The Channel 10 news is beginning it's 11 pm news update. An attractive brunette in a navy-blue suit stands in front of a fence made of chain link and barbed wire. Seto's blood turns to ice as he reads the headline at the bottom of the screen:

 _Eleven Children Missing from the Domino City Children's Sanctuary_

The Children's Sanctuary lies at the heart of the Young Paladins foundation. It is the most underfunded orphanage in the Domino region. Seto visited the Children's Sanctuary last week to meet with the director, a capable but overwhelmed young man named Gavin Steinborn. During his visit, Seto was overwhelmed by the flashbacks that the dirty rooms and dim lighting and screaming children brought him and consequently he had found himself shaking in a cramped bathroom stall, repeating to himself over and over again that _places like this were why he had started Young Paladins in the first place._

"Police are investigating the Domino City Children's Sanctuary, a residential unit for children awaiting foster homes." The reporter's crisp voice slices through Seto's panic-induced reverie. "During the past five months, eleven children have disappeared without a trace from the facility, with their records being deleted entirely from the Children's Sanctuary database. These disturbing disappearances were brought to light by an anonymous tip to the Sheriff's department in downtown Domino City.

The beginning of these disappearances coincide with the beginning of the involvement of the Kaiba Corporation charity foundation Young Paladins, which has been working with the Children's Sanctuary to provide enrichment programs in science, technology, and the arts. The Young Paladins foundation, a pet project of Mr. Seto Kaiba himself, was founded only eight months ago."

 _Ding. Ding. Ding_. Frantically, Seto scrambles for his phone.

 _ **3 New Messages:**_ _Atem_

The first is a video: the thumbnail preview is black, and the video is three minutes long. He holds his breath, feeling his pulse in roaring in his temples, and presses play.

 _A man with thin, sandy hair and threadbare clothes stands alone in a room. A single unmarked door leads to the outside world; there are no windows, no furnishings, no appliances or any indication of the room's purpose at all. A voice crackles over an intercom system…_

" _Sir."_

 _The man nods, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he scans the room for the speaker. "What's going on?"_

 _The voice responds, "You have been chosen as an alpha-tester for Kaiba Corporation's state-of-the-art virtual reality technology, otherwise known as Solid Vision"-_

He can't shut the phone off fast enough. He tosses it across the room, panting with fear, begging for the video to stop. To his great relief, the phone lands with a muffled _thump_ against the carpet, and then all he can hear is the sound of his own ragged breaths.

He thought that footage was scrubbed for good. Highly secure, heavily encrypted backups existed on a backup server, in case there was ever a time that they would need to be used-for _whatever_ purpose, he wasn't even sure. He was the only one who had access. Even Mokuba wasn't aware that those records were still in existence….

A soft, terrified groan escapes his throat, and he rests his forehead on his hands, staring numbly at the phone that he just threw across the room. He feels beads of cold sweat form at his hairline.

Step by step, he inches across the room, feeling his legs give out from under him as he sinks onto the carpet beside his phone.

The second message is a screen grab, with a terminal screen in the middle. Seto frowns, pinching the image to zoom in. The tiny white text takes a moment to focus, and he wipes his sweating palms against his suit pants. The white text displays a session on a server for the Domino City Children's Sanctuary. His eyes widen with shock as he realizes that the sender, whoever they are, are logged _as him_ , and accessing the secure database that houses the records of the children at the Children's Sanctuary.

He is the only one from the Young Paladins foundation who has been granted access to that highly confidential information. He was granted that access about five months ago, at the start of the partnership between his foundation and the Children's Sanctuary.

Ice-cold horror overwhelms him, tingling through every nerve in his body. The implication is unmistakable.

The last message is a single word.

 _CHECKMATE._

* * *

 _Author's Notes_

* * *

I wanted to try something new to expand my skills as a writer. The "skill" in question being writing something driven by plot, as opposed to loosely connected scenes (a la _Extras_ ). It started with the half-baked idea of " _Seto Kaiba in a_ Batman-styled _vigilante story"_ , and was shaped into a very loosely _Black Mirror_ / _Gotham/Mr. Robot-_ inspired short suspense story.

Endless gratitude to my boyfriend, who was maybe a little too eager to help poke holes into my plot, and to Moon aka Moonluster, my friend, beta reader, and ongoing source of inspiration. Moon also gave suggestions for a title (since the title was first "something about cyber security and neo-noir vibes", then "dusk vibes", then "filler title"), which were incorporated into the final title, for which I am eternally grateful.

And as a young amateur writer always searching for validation, thoughts, messages and reviews are always greatly appreciated :)

 _Mei_


	2. I

"Your coffee, Mr. Wheeler."

Joey looks up from his phone screen, eyes widening as he wracked his brain for an excuse for being on his phone at work. A wave of relief washes over him as his gaze falls upon a black-haired girl holding a cardboard tray of coffee cups on her arm like a waitress.

"Nicky, right. Um, remind me what I asked for, will ya?" Joey asks. He sits up a little straighter, hastily locking his phone as the intern sets his coffee on the desk.

The girl's eyes crinkle, and her lips part into an easy smile. "Dark roast, Mr. Wheeler. With three French vanilla creamers." She bites her lip, suppressing a teasing giggle. "I'm still not sure that I can let you drink that much sugar in good conscience."

Joey rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Good work anyways, Nicky," he teases. "Remind me what's on the schedule again, today?"

Nicky frowns with concentration, pulling a miniature notepad from the pocket of her sweatshirt and leafing through the well-worn pages. "Um, a meeting with someone from the cyber security firm that deals with our electronic recordkeeping, in….five minutes." She bites the corner of her lip. "She's outside right now. Should I send her in?"

"Who?" Joey pauses with his coffee cup raised to his mouth. His eyebrows furrow as he asks, "What's that gotta do with me?" He motions at the nameplate that sits on his desk: _Joseph K. Wheeler, LCSW,_ and the emblem of the Domino City Children's Sanctuary in the lower right-hand corner. "I work with kids, trying to help them keep their heads while they go through hell. I don't do that computer stuff." His nose wrinkles with mock distaste.

Nicky shrugs apologetically. "Sorry, Mr. Wheeler. They asked to speak to you specifically."

"Who?" Joey repeats.

"Some woman, I guess. Her name is…" Nicky turns a page in her notebook and smacks her lips. "Um, Kisara Endo."

Joey sighs, washing down a long sip of coffee. "Alright, thanks, Nicky. You can let her in."

x

Kisara Endo turns out to be a small, slender woman in her mid-twenties, with straight white hair plaited into a braid down her back and dark-blue eyes smudged with charcoal-colored liner. She nods politely as Nicky ushers her into the office, extending her hand to Joey.

"Good morning, Mr. Wheeler," Kisara says. Her voice is surprisingly husky for a woman with such a small frame.

Joey stands up, pumps her hand firmly, then returns to his seat. "Alright...so what d'ya want from me, Miss Endo?" he asks, frowning. "You should know, I don't do much of the recordkeeping stuff. I do the forms online, I fill 'em out, that's it, really."

Kisara's wide-set eyes drift upwards, and she clicks her tongue thoughtfully. "It's not that, really," she says, leaning in. "Sorry. I'm in a bit of a predicament…."

"Hmm?" Joey's brow furrows with concern, and he tilts his head empathetically. "I'm not sure I follow."

A troubled look clouds Kisara's expression. "Can I talk to you off the record?" she asks.

"Of course." Joey nods encouragingly. "They sound-proof the social workers' walls, you know. For privacy, and everything."

Taking a deep breath, Kisara blurts out, "I need to ask you something about Seto Kaiba."

* * *

"You sure you're doing all right, bro?" The tablet screen displays a crystal-clear image of Mokuba Kaiba sitting in a dormitory room, curled up on the top bunk of a bunk bed.

Seto Kaiba sighs, interlacing his fingers and resting them under his chin. "You have to stop worrying, Mokuba," he says shortly. "We're handling it."

Mokuba's dark eyes narrow with concern. "I'm not talking about the company," he protests. "I mean, in five months, eleven children have disappeared from Domino's Childrens' Sanctuary." The look on the boy's face softens as he adds, "I know it's personal for you, Seto. This program was supposed to help enrich the lives of kids like us, but things are worse than ever." The corners of his mouth droop inexorably downwards, and he bites at his lower lip. "I'm sorry, bro."

"We're doing our best." Seto's words are matter-of-fact, and his curt tone does not invite further discussion. It is the same response he has given to the press in every statement. "We are investigating the standards of care at the Children's Sanctuary, but we stand by our Young Paladins foundation and the work they are doing for foster children in the Domino Community."

Knowing he is being shut out, Mokuba shakes his head, averting his eyes. "Okay. Best of luck, Seto."

"To you as well, Mokuba." He presses a button on the side of the tablet, and Mokuba's face disappears. Glaring at the blank screen for a moment longer, his eyes flick over towards the tiny camera embedded on the face of the screen, and in a moment of panic, he slams the tablet face down on the desk.

 _Checkmate_. The words echo ominously in his mind. He can't talk to Mokuba about that...he can't put his little brother at risk, jeopardize his chance at a _normal life_ , studying electrical engineering at a university thousands of miles away from Domino City. Memories of Mokuba's pale face, smeared with dirt and gaunt from hunger, with rounded and pitiful eyes staring up at him from a prison cell in Pegasus's castle flash before his eyes, and he slams his fist against the desk in a desperate attempt to make everything _stop_. The room feels unbearably cold. The bitter taste of bile creeps up his throat. He can feel his heartbeat, at first just a steady pulse that courses through his chest, then faster and faster and faster, faster, faster in his throat and stomach and forehead...

* * *

"What the _hell?_ " The vitriol in Joey's voice makes Kisara jump.

She waits for a moment before speaking, wringing her hands in her lap. "It's just too much to be a coincidence," she says anxiously, tapping a wedge-heeled shoe against the floor. "Someone has been regularly wiring money to a bank account in Mr. Kaiba's name. I cross-referenced with his activity in the Children's Sanctuary database, and _he_ is the one deleting all of those records." Her voice drops to a nervous whisper. "I can't add it up any other way. The only person who can establish a transfer line from the Young Paladins account is Mr. Kaiba himself."

Joey's hazel eyes are still wide with shock, and he fails to find words more quickly than Kisara. "The Kaiba Corporation went through a period of a few years of turmoil after power shifted hands from Mr. Gozaburo Kaiba, to Mr. Seto Kaiba," she explains. "A lot of the records have been heavily redacted. And I know that you know Mr. Kaiba himself, and I…" the woman's voice trails off, and tears glitter in the corners of her eyes. "And I _really_ don't want to believe this, but..."

He shakes his head with such conviction that a lock of blond hair flies into his eyes. "That's not the Kaiba I know," he says. "Don't get me wrong, the Kaiba I know is a goddamn bastard, but not an orphan-smuggling goddamn bastard."

Kisara rubs one hand against her neck. "I don't know what to do, then," she confesses quietly. "There's something going on. If not with the Young Paladins, then _here_." Her gaze is intense enough to make Joey uncomfortable, and he looks away, staring blankly at the empty wastebasket next to his desk. "I've heard about you, Mr. Wheeler. About how you want to do good by these kids, and help keep them away from trouble on the streets."

Caught off-guard, Joey looks up finding himself staring into Kisara's dark blue eyes. "You're a good man, Mr. Wheeler. And you know Mr. Kaiba." Her lips purse momentarily before she continues, "Please. I need your help. I need your advice on what I'm supposed to do."

* * *

Seto sits alone in the corner of a local late-night diner. A stack of pancakes is growing cold in front of him; the scoop of whipped butter on top has melted into a sad puddle and congealed into a greasy mess. An untouched glass of water sits on a coaster, dripping with condensation from the long-melted ice that was poured into the glass.

He has been sitting here for hours. He is never one to idle in the presence of others, but today, the emotional cocktail of dread, guilt, and terror is too much to handle in solitude. From the corner of his eye, he watches a teenage boy accompanied by a much younger child-his sibling, he assumes, or maybe his cousin-scribble with crayons on a paper napkin, giggling to each other. His heart pangs with loneliness when he realizes how much he misses Mokuba.

 _I've failed him_ , he thinks miserably, paralyzed in his tensed, rigid position. _Everything is over._ He glances down at his phone, which lies on the table, but there has been no activity by the so-called Atem.

He can't take it any longer. Before he can talk himself out of it he reaches for his phone, furiously typing out a message:

 _What do you want from me?_

He sets the phone down, his eyes still glued to the screen. A dim, high-pitched buzzing rings in his ears, drowning out the warm, gentle chatter in the diner with cold, grating noise. A text bubble appears at the bottom of the screen, and he finds himself holding his breath, his shoulders shaking with anticipation.

 _Atem: I WANT THE WORLD TO FINALLY SEE YOU FOR WHO YOU REALLY ARE._

Whoever 'Atem' is-the rational part of Seto's mind knows that it can't really be him-is still typing. Seto's mouth is as dry as paper as he madly scrambles to respond:

 _Don't you know who I am? I own half the city. This is your one warning. I am a very dangerous enemy._

Whatever message 'Atem' was about to send never materializes-the ellipses in their grey text bubble disappear from the corner of Seto's screen. He smirks, feeling a flicker of pride fight the frigid sensation of panic in his chest, and he locks his phone with a sense of triumph.

 _Ding. Ding. Ding._ His victory, however, is short-lived; the sound of his messaging tone strikes fear in his heart, severing the last thread connecting him to the outside world. The diner and its' warm ambience, gentle chatter, and aroma of coffee and fresh bacon fade into darkness around him, leaving him trapped in the void with his phone and an unnamed menace who has assumed the identity of the man he respected the most.

One of the messages is a video. Although no preview is available, Seto knows better than to press play, knowing full well what the contents of the video will be.

 _Atem: I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, SETO KAIBA._

 _Atem: I OWN YOU._


	3. II

He agreed to meet with Seto Kaiba at seven, but he arrives at the pub at six-thirty, so he can be adequately prepared to interact with Seto Kaiba. He flags down a waitress as soon as the host, a skinny and freckled redhead, leads him to a booth in the corner.

"I'm going to open a tab now," he says bluntly, offering his credit card to the waitress as he sits down. "You're welcome to bring me as much stout as you can carry. When my companion comes, you can make your job easier by just bringing 'em in twos."

The waitress smiles at him. He winks at her, brushing his golden-blond hair out of his eyes. "A'ight. But seriously, though."

She gives him a knowing nod and reappears a minute or two later with a pint of dark beer. He smiles gratefully at her, sliding a few bills from his wallet and onto the table.

As she disappears from view, he takes a long, thirsty sip from the stein, scanning the room to check for the arrival of Seto Kaiba. If he remembers the man's presence correctly, he won't be difficult to spot. His gaze drifts from table to table, mentally tabulating the scores of the sports games on various TV screens and watching the billiards games progress in the dimly-lit back of the pub. He finishes his beer, setting the empty glass at the edge of the table, and finds himself duly impressed when the waitress whisks the glass away and replaces it with a new pint within thirty seconds.

"Wheeler." Joey's head jerks rapidly, following the sound of a familiar, cold, amused voice. He finds himself staring at Seto Kaiba, dressed in a crisply pressed navy-blue suit and carrying a leather briefcase. The brown-haired man sets his briefcase on the floor and slides into the booth opposite Joey.

"Nice place to meet, Wheeler. Why am I not surprised you'd drag me out to a place like this?"

Joey feels heat pulse through his veins, and he grips his hand tightly around the handle of his drink. "It's good to see you too, Kaiba," he responds.

Seto's arms fold across his chest. "No, it's not. Don't insult my intelligence, Wheeler." Joey grits his teeth as Seto leans back against the seat cushions, lips curling into a self-satisfied smile. He has only seen pictures of Seto Kaiba since high school, which is how he planned to live the rest of his life. The man looks exactly like he remembered him from the last time he saw him-the same neatly combed dark brown hair, the same sharp, angular cheekbones, the same almond-shaped eyes in a disarmingly pale blue color. Unfortunately, he still also has the same proficiency at making Joey's blood boil; being in Seto's presence makes Joey feel as if he has regressed several years. Suddenly he is back in high school, exchanging blows with Seto across the arena over a game of Duel Monsters.

"Why did you bring me to this dump, anyway?" Seto asks, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.

His words rattle Joey from his train of thought, and his face contorts with momentary confusion. "Hmm?"

Seto's eyes roll. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Wheeler. You called my assistant today, desperate to meet with me. Get to the point; I don't have time for your foolishness."

"Right." Joey shakes his head quickly, clearing the alcohol-induced haze from his head. "Kaiba, someone came to see me about you."

He isn't sure if he just imagines the way that Seto's eyebrows jump with alarm. "Go on," he says, nodding.

Joey hesitates, tracing his finger through the condensation accumulating on his beer glass. "Kaiba, look, I, um"-he leans forwards, his voice dropping lower-"there's no love lost between us, but you know that I respect you."

To his great surprise, the man's unflinching blue eyes widen slightly, and the steeled expression on his face softens somewhat. For a moment, to Joey, Seto Kaiba looks almost human. "All right, Wheeler," he says, sucking his lower lip with his teeth.

"Something's going on," Joey responds. Seto's face in front of him lurches as the pressure of containing the words is released. "Someone came to me today, Kaiba. About you."

Seto's mouth gapes open with shock, and as Joey looks closer, he can see that the man's pupils are dilated with unmistakable horror. "Who?" Seto demands, without pretext. "Who came to see you?"

Joey shakes his head. "Some white-haired girl….Kisara….something. She worked for a cyber security firm, or something." He frowns, looking more closely at the brown-haired man in front of him. His pale skin looks almost translucent, and there are dark circles, puffy and purple like bruises, under his eyes. He has always associated Seto with a certain kind of power-hungry desperation, but today he looks so exhausted that Joey feels a pang of sympathy stir in his heart.

Seto leans forwards, pressing the palms of his hands against the table. Joey can smell coffee and mint gum on his breath. "Wheeler, I don't know what you heard, but"-

Joey leans back, alarmed at Seto's sudden movement. "Kaiba. It's alright," he says, avoiding meeting Seto's wide-stretched blue eyes. "I'm here…" he trails off, bracing himself with a hearty swallow of beer, "I'm here as your friend."

Seto's nose wrinkles slightly, but he sits back down, making a disconcerted noise in the back of his throat. "Don't push it, Wheeler," he mutters.

"Knock it off, man. I think you're in trouble, here."

Seto says nothing, but his jaw is clenched so tightly that Joey can see the veins in his neck. "Someone is trying to destroy me," he says, casting a furtive glance around the room.

Joey sighs. "Yeah. I figured." Unable to stop himself in time, he adds, "You make a lot of enemies, ya know…?"

Seto runs his hands through his hair, and Joey can see the beads of cold sweat on his hairline. "Someone is trying to frame me for….for….." his voice trails off, and Joey sucks his lip sympathetically as he gets a good look at the full-blown horror in Seto's eyes.

" _Kaiba_. I know you didn't." Joey faces Seto's gaze straight-on. "I know how much this program for the kids means to you. You wouldn't do that."

Seto nods morosely, and Joey wonders if he imagined the soft, strained whimper he hears as Seto's shoulders collapse inwards. Seto shakes his head quickly, tousling his dark brown hair. "Wheeler….I don't know what to do," he says. "Someone managed to hack my credentials. I'd bet that's what whoever came to you found out."

Joey nods. "It looks like someone is using your credentials to manipulate the records at the Children's Sanctuary. And every time kids go missing, some money gets deposited into an account in your name."

"Good grief, Wheeler, keep it down," Seto hisses, his blue eyes boring holes into the back of Joey's skull.

"That's all I know, anyways. It didn't add up to me. You might be a major dickhead, but trafficking orphans? That doesn't sound like you." Suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands, he takes another sip of his beer, setting the mug back on the table with a dull thud. "What to _do_ about it-geez, I dunno nothin' about computers, Kaiba. But I wanted you to know that you need to watch your back."

Seto's expression is cloudy and distant, and for a moment Joey worries that he is going to pass out over the table. Seto's thin lips steel into a grimace, and he pushes himself out of the booth, slipping a folded twenty-dollar bill from his suit pocket onto the table. "I need to go," he says hastily.

"Hey, hey, man." Joey stands to face Seto, reaching out to rest his hand on the man's shoulder; to his surprise, Seto flinches away from his touch, his bright blue eyes wide with anxiety. Joey feels a lump of pity rise in his throat as he watches the man before him dissolve into a panicked mess.

"Let me take you home, Kaiba."

Seto says nothing, folding his arms firmly over his chest.

More slowly than the last time, Joey reaches out, gently resting one hand on Seto's shoulder and guiding him towards the entrance. "I can do that much, at least. Let's go."

* * *

The orphanage has been gone for years, destroyed and replaced by subsidized housing for low-income families. But it stands before him now, with the sad little sandbox in the front and the razor-wire fence surrounding the perimeter, looking every bit as real as the day he arrived.

" _Shhh. It's okay, Mokie."_ Seto wheels his head around, searching desperately for the source of the voice. His pulse quickens as he sees a skinny brown-haired boy in a blue sweater emerge hand-in-hand with a black-haired toddler from between two nearby buildings, guiding the younger child towards the sandbox that he currently stands in.

" _As long as I'm around, you don't have to worry, okay, Mokie? I'll take care of you, just like dad did." The brown-haired child gives the toddler an affectionate pat on the back._

" _I want to go home," the younger child whines. As they get closer, he can see that the young child's face is puffy and red, and the little kid's sleeves are damp with tears. "Why can't we go home, Seto?"_

 _The older child's face hardens for a moment, and he pauses before responding, "It's just...it's better for us this way, Mokie. I promise everything will be all right in the end."_

 _They reach the edge of the sandbox, and the older child lifts the younger one up, placing him gently onto the sand._

" _I don't want to be here," the little child sniffles, wiping sand all over his cheeks as he rubs his nose with his sleeve._

 _Smiling kindly, the older boy scoots around so he is kneeling next to his younger brother, and scoops up a handful of sand. "We won't be here forever, Mokie," he promises. "And when we get out, someday, we can build a great big theme park where kids can live, and then_ nobody _will ever be unlucky anymore."_

 _Mokuba giggles hesitantly. "You can't_ live _in a theme park, Seto,"_

 _Seto smiles, scooping up a handful of sand. "Just you wait, Mokie. This-" he etches a wide circle into the sand with his index finger-"this will be the park, okay? And over here-" he molds a pile of sand into a crude dome-"here, we'll have lots and lots of rooms for kids to live in, so they have a place to sleep between riding all of my roller coasters."_

He kneels down behind the boys to get a closer look at the young Seto's Kaiba Land blueprint in the sand. That day is forever burned into his memory-the day that they were abandoned at the orphanage by their extended family, and the day that he committed himself to bettering the world. Unconsciously, he reaches out to ruffle the toddler Mokuba's hair.

" _Seto, help!" A stream of black smoke erupts from where Seto's hand touches young Mokuba's head. The young child's voice is strife with panic. Instinctively, Seto yanks his hand back, but the little boy's body continues to dissolve into smoke._

 _Apparently oblivious, the young Seto hums softly to himself, continuing his work in the sand._

" _Seto!" young Mokuba's voice is a high-pitched, desperate sob. "Please!_ Please!" _Seto watches in horror as the young version of himself continues to work, oblivious to what is happening to his brother. Mokuba has almost fully disappeared now, and the thick black haze hangs in the air like an ominous veil, obscuring everything in sight._

" _Why won't you help?"_

X

Seto's eyes burst open, and he finds himself sitting upright, heaving for air and covered in a cold sweat. The peaceful stillness of his bedroom, with the large potted plant in the corner and moonlight streaming in through open drapes, takes a long time to register. In his mind, he is still knelt beside his past self at the orphanage, as the only person he loves dissolves into thin air.

 _It could have been Mokuba._ He shudders, pulling meekly at the covers that drape across his shoulders. Young Mokuba's terrified cries slowly fade, replaced by a dull but overpowering ringing that reverberates through his skull until he cries out in agony for it to stop. He clutches his comforter, using it to muffle the sound before he realizes that Mokuba is not here, and nobody is around to hear his own cries for help.


	4. III

Her stomach hurts, and her skin feels ice-cold as she sits outside of Seto Kaiba's desk, clutching her tablet close to her chest. For the thousandth time, she glances down at her phone, which displays an alert: _Meeting with Seto Kaiba, 11 am._ Two more minutes.

She shudders and looks up, her eyes meeting briefly with the dark-haired secretary, who nods encouragingly at her. "I'll let you know when Mr. Kaiba is ready for you," the woman says brightly, offering Kisara a bright smile.

Kisara fidgets, running her fingers along a strand of silver-white hair. "Do you know what the meeting is regarding? I just got a call from my boss this morning, saying that Mr. Kaiba requested to meet with me specifically." Her voice comes out dry and shaky, and she coughs slightly. "I'm on the security team for the Children's Foundation, but I'm not the lead. Is this about Young Paladins?" She winces as she forces the last question out, tense with fear that the Kaiba Corp CEO has discovered what she knows about him-or, at least, his activities in regards to the Young Paladins.

The secretary shakes her head, pressing ruby-lacquered lips together apologetically. "I'm sorry, Miss Endo," she says. A soft ringtone interrupts their exchange, and the secretary picks up a corded phone.

"Mmm-hmm. All right," Mr. Kaiba's secretary says, then flicks her glance over towards Kisara. "He's ready for you now."

X

Seto Kaiba's office is spacious and airy, with sunlight streaming in from giant windows that overlook the bustling Domino cityscape. A tall and broad-shouldered figure poised behind an enormous mahogany desk is silhouetted in the window, his face cast into dim shadows.

"M...Mr. Kaiba, sir." Kisara's knees feel weak underneath her as she crosses the room towards the open seat in front of Mr. Seto Kaiba himself. The distance stretches out in front of her, and the maroon carpet expands into an expansive sea separating her from the Kaiba Corp CEO. Gasping softly with relief, she sinks into the leather chair in front of him, placing her tablet in her lap and folding her hands anxiously on top of them.

Seto is younger than he looks in press releases, forcing Kisara to remember that the man is only a year older than herself. His face is angular and severe, but still a little soft around the cheekbones, and he has startlingly wide, bright blue eyes that remind her of a Siberian husky. He has dark bags under his eyes, and his lips are drawn tight as he stares at Kisara with a disarmingly desperate look in his eyes. Kisara tilts her head slightly, waiting for him to speak, and the silence continues to stretch on. The air is cool and dry and crisp and smells good, like cinnamon and musk.

"R...right." Seto's voice is authoritative and practiced, but breaks slightly as he lifts his chin to stare down at Kisara. "Miss...Miss Endo. I…" his gaze wavers, and he stands up, resting his palms on his desk and leaning towards her. "Miss Endo. I need to discuss something with you."

Kisara's blood turns to ice. "Related to my work as a security consultant?" she asks. The office fades away, leaving her and Seto's blue, blue eyes in a cold, swirling darkness.

Seto shakes his head. "I'll cut to the chase, Miss Endo. You spoke to a...Wheeler….about something you've uncovered in the Children's Sanctuary system."

"R...right." Kisara's words freeze in her throat, and her tongue turns to cotton in her mouth.

Seto sits back down, agitatedly running his hands through his hair. "I can't," he says unsteadily, his voice warbling off into an uneasy silence. "Miss Endo….are you the only one who knows?"

"As far as I know. If what I found proved….reliable, then it would blow up into a major scandal."

"But you spoke to Wheeler."

Kisara fidgets. "Mr. Wheeler was a big name in Duel Monsters, back in the time of, you know, Battle City," she squeaks meekly. "When I saw that he was working for the Children's Sanctuary, I just…"

Seto shakes his head quickly, and Kisara sees a flash of the confident authoritarian reemerge in him. "No matter," he says briskly.

They sit in poised, uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"I think you're being framed," Kisara blurts out. "Especially after talking to Mr. Wheeler. There's something big going on out there. Someone wants to see you go down. But I think you're…" the word _innocent_ is poised on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitates. "...not responsible for all of these disappearances from the Children's Sanctuary."

Seto's shoulders relax slightly. For a moment, his blue eyes appear watery and Kisara fears that the man is liable to crumble into tears. "Well, then," he says softly.

"It's damning, the evidence on you, right now," Kisara continues, tugging anxiously on a stray strand of white hair. "But if I turn the evidence over, they're not going to look any further. It looks pretty…conclusive."

"How much do you know, exactly?"

Kisara's shoulders shoot upwards towards her cheeks, and she fidgets with the hem of her skirt. "You...or someone hacked into your account….has been deleting the records of children that go missing from the Domino City Children's Sanctuary." Her lower lip juts out a little, and her eyes go wide. "And also, at the same time, there's money going into an account that has your name on it."

Seto tilts his head, staring intensely at her. His bright blue eyes bore holes in her skull. "There's more."

Kisara clicks her tongue against her teeth. "Um," she says. "That's not great."

"Someone else knows, too. I'm being blackmailed."

"I mean, that's pretty bad."

Eyes nervously darting back and forth, Seto says nothing, the corners of his mouth trembling. "I won't stand for my name being sullied," he says, "but what's happening to these kids...what might be…" his voice trails off, and he grabs a handful of fabric from his suit sleeve, scrunching it the palm of his hand.

If she hadn't fully understood the magnitude of the situation, she does in that moment, and it hits her like a sack of bricks, making her head spin. _Kids are being hurt_ , she thinks, shuddering violently at the image of terrified children being whisked off by shadowy, faceless forces.

"Of course, I'm quite skilled in understanding computer security, as well." Kisara is thankful for Seto's brusque, deep voice cutting through the nightmarish images in her head. "But I have a company to run, and for the sake of appearances, I can't afford to divert all of my attention to this."

Kisara nods, tilting her head slightly. "I understand."

Another long, tense pause stretches between them, finally broken by Seto clearing his throat with a slight cough. "I'm asking for your assistance in tracking down whoever is responsible for all of this."

She half-expected this, but her pulse still quickens at the prospect of working directly with one of the richest and most accomplished men in the world. "I understand," she repeats, busying herself with polishing the screen of her tablet with her sleeve to hide the warm flush of excitement that climbs steadily up her cheeks.

Apparently satisfied with this reaction, Seto's lips tighten into a slight smile, and he nods briskly. "Obviously, your discretion is of the utmost importance in a role like this," he says. "And I am willing to pay for that"-

"Oh!" Kisara yelps, momentarily caught off guard. She wasn't quite expecting him to yield for her exclamation, and she fidgets anxiously. "Right, Mr. Kaiba."

"Call me Seto."

"Mr….Mr. Seto."

For a split second, Seto Kaiba looks the slightest bit amused. "Just Seto, Miss Endo."

Kisara rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck with one hand. "Just Kisara, then."

"All right, Kisara."

Recollecting herself, Kisara folds her hands politely in her lap. "I can promise to do the utmost to maintain your confidentiality, Seto," Kisara affirms. An unexpected swell of confidence makes her sit a little straighter, and she meets Seto's remarkably bright blue gaze head-on.

Seto nods. "I expected no less," he remarks smoothly. There is no denying that he looks a great deal more relaxed, and Kisara can see the soft curve of his eyebrows under his bangs. Although his eyes have deep bags under them, their color is remarkable to Kisara, and her gaze lingers on him for a moment before she finally looks away, painfully aware of the steady hum of blood rushing through her cheeks.

"I have another office, which can offer us more privacy," Seto suggests. "Can you be back here tonight at seven?"

"Earlier, if you need me."

Seto sighs, and his shoulders sag visibly. Kisara is surprised to feel empathy swell up as a lump in her throat as she watches him deflate in front of her; he looks less like an intimidating billionaire CEO and more like another one of Kisara's overworked and exhausted colleagues. "Unfortunately, until then, I'm going to be occupied with damage control at the Children's Sanctuary."

Kisara dips her head quickly. "Understood. I can meet you back here."

Seto nods at her, and she pivots on her heel to leave. The heavy double doors slam loudly as she exits.

* * *

The Domino City Children's Sanctuary, with its stained red-brick exterior and scraggly crabgrass lawns and iron bars on the windows, is not a pleasant place in general, but Seto's least favorite part of visiting the Children's Sanctuary are the bright, watchful pairs of eyes that follow his every move. Like skittish mice, children disappear from the hallways as he approaches, but he can see little faces peering out at him from behind every door. His every footstep echoes into an eerie and unnatural silence. He swallows hard, biting the inside of his lip and keeping his gaze locked straight ahead. It takes his every ounce of self-control not to bolt for the door.

Gozaburo preached complete rejection of compassion as a fundamental tenet of humanity. Gozaburo worshiped at the shrine of power and pushed Seto into the same direction, mercilessly attempting to beat out every ounce of his humanity. Seto himself used to consider himself too far gone to be considered human. It was comforting, almost-if he was nothing but a monster, a subhuman creature that no longer required compassion and love and acceptance and humanity, then at least he wouldn't have to admit that he ached for those things, and was constantly plagued with the fear that he would never deserve them. But the pain that radiates viscerally in his chest is a miserable reminder that his transformation from human to monster, crafted in Gozaburo's own image, had never been quite complete. He is torn between wanting to save all of the children that stare at him, watching with a fascination that borders on reverence, and knowing that despite all of his means, he wouldn't know how to _really_ save them, anyways. So he pretends he doesn't notice, and he keeps walking, snorting softly and shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his suit coat.

He is so focused on keeping his eyes locked ahead that he almost misses the office tucked at the end of a hallway, between the cafeteria that smells like boiled vegetables and a bathroom that smells strongly of ammonia. Inside, a man with thinning light brown hair combed neatly behind his ears sits behind a desk adorned with a nameplate that reads _Gavin Steinborn, Director of Operations, DCCS._

"Mr. Kaiba," the man says, standing up and hustling to greet Seto at the doorway with a handshake. His eyes are the dark green of a freshly-mowed lawn, and his skin is a soft and sun-kissed golden color.

Seto nods, briskly grasping the man's hand in a well-practiced series of motions-grab, make eye contact, up-down, release. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

Gavin gestures to the overstuffed chairs that line the corners of his office before settling into a red armchair. "Mr. Kaiba, of course. This situation is, to say the least, extremely urgent." He presses his fingers together, raising his hands to eye level. "We intend to give the police investigation as much aid as they possibly can."

Seto's heart stops for a moment. _The police_. He almost forgot about the police. "I appreciate that. Young Paladins intends to cooperate as well." Narrowing his eyes, he adds, "What is the current state of the investigation?"

"Reeling. They're starting with interviewing kids, looking for leads on where the children disappeared to. Obviously, the safety of the children is being made the priority."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I am, as well." Gavin sighs, leaning back a little in his chair. "Can I level with you for a moment, Seto? I'm not optimistic about the police. Of course, it's sad that kids are disappearing, but they're _orphans_." He shakes his head, and a few strands of brown hair slip out of place and fall in front of his eyes. "People like to act like they care, but if they really cared about these kids, then this place wouldn't look like this. You know, don't you?"

Seto grimaces, lost in a deluge of unpleasant memories. "Too well."

"You and I both. I came up in here, you know. I was lucky that I ended up where I am now, instead of in prison or out on the streets. I'm always glad to see that other kids were able to do the same. You took your little brother with you on your ride to the top, didn't you?"

"Mokuba…that's right." Seto unconsciously grabs for the card-shaped locket he still wears around his neck. "He's going to college now. Electrical engineering."

Gavin smiles, and the skin around his green eyes crinkles a little. "That's great. I had a big brother, you know. We aged out of the system before we found a family." The man heaves a huge sigh that almost appears to cave in his chest. "He stuck around until I aged out, too, but he disappeared a long time ago. That's part of what I want to do here, right? Stability, continuity, give these kids the tools they'll need to have functional lives on the other end of all this."

"That's all well and good," Seto says, choking back his emotions. "The mission of the Domino City Children's Sanctuary is part of the reason that I wanted to make this place one of the focuses of my foundation."

"We appreciate that very much, Mr. Kaiba." Gavin leans towards Seto, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in a prayer-like position in front of him. "I saw the news, I saw that they're trying to cast suspicion on the Young Paladins. We're having a press conference of our own here, and I intend to say that I don't believe it one bit." He shakes his head vehemently. "There's a lot of people who are going to try and take advantage of vulnerable kids who don't have anyone looking out for them. I'm hoping they'll catch the real douchebag, we'll find the kids, and we can work on moving forwards out of this mess." The smile he flashes at Seto is tired but hopeful. "That'd be best for us all, you know?"

* * *

"It's like a panic room," Kisara remarks, staring around her at the giant terminal screens on the walls, the red velvet swivel chairs, the stainless steel refrigerator tucked inconspicuously into a corner.

Without further ado, Seto plunks himself in front of a large keyboard in the middle of the room, and a boot menu appears on one of the giant screens. "Of sorts," he says nonchalantly, his fingers already beginning to fly over the keys. "You can use the other terminal, over there. Help yourself."

Kisara had been waiting for him outside of his office when he arrived at six fifty-three. She had changed from her work clothes into a pair of dark jeans and a royal blue sweatshirt that proudly announced her affiliation with Domino City University. She had impressed him by coming prepared with her own laptop, ethernet cords, and a black notebook with a soft leather cover.

He led her from the lobby and down the elevator and out of the building, crossing the street into a small park. Behind a duck pond was a small trapdoor, operable by his cell phone, which opened into a narrow staircase that smelled faintly of the earth.

If Kisara had been hesitant to follow him down a staircase that had appeared out of nowhere from behind a pond, she gave no indication; the only way he knew she was still following him was by the echoing sound of her sneakers on the stairs. Motion-activated lights continue to guide them into the darkness, and finally into a room with chairs and computer screens and little else. Here, Seto hacked into the Industrial Illusions mainframe to save himself once before. He rarely visits here, but he feels stronger. This is his home turf.

Despite the circumstances, he smiles grimly to himself, cracking his knuckles before diving into work.

The steady flow of keyboard-clacking noises coming from Kisara's direction falters, and Seto glances sideways, making a concerted effort not to turn his head to look at her. Her lips are pursed, and her hands are laced together and pressed against her mouth. He smiles, realizing that they have assumed almost identical positions.

"Seto?"

"Yes."

"Do you think someone at the Children's Sanctuary is out to get you?" If Kisara's voice were an animal, it would be a cat, balancing carefully along a ledge far too thin to lose its' balance.

Seto stops working and swivels his chair around to look at her. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"I just…." Kisara chews on her lip, eyes directed upwards towards the dim lights that illuminate the cave-like space. "Since everything was done, you know, in _your_ account name, it would be hard to sniff down the right person, without leads. I did some preliminary work during lunch, but I just realized, I'm focusing mostly on people connected to the Young Paladins." The rubber sole of her white sneaker taps nervously against the ground, echoing dully in the darkness. "Looking through records from the Children's Sanctuary would be harder. Doing a brute-force kind of thing, I think this would catch up with you before we could find out anything useful."

Seto grits his teeth and Kisara flinches backward into her seat. "I don't know," he says finally.

Kisara puffs out her cheeks. "I mean….Kaiba Corp, one of the most powerful companies on the planet. You must have enemies, right?"

"I don't actively try to accumulate them, anymore."

Kisara's wide blue eyes open and close thoughtfully. For a moment, Seto is hypnotized by the unexpected beauty in bluish glow of the terminal screen on the soft angles of her face, and he shakes his head to make the thoughts stop.

"You made a lot of enemies back in the Battle City days," Kisara suggests finally. Already prepared to defend herself, she narrows her eyes, adding, "everyone knows _that_."

"Wheeler?"

"I mean…."

Seto shakes his head, allowing himself a one-note laugh. "I spoke to that idiot last night," he tells her. "He warned me to watch my back. Believe me, that idiot doesn't have enough brain power to double-cross me."

"Oh." Kisara's face falls, and it is hard to tell in the dim blue light if her cheeks are really flushing, or if it is just in Seto's imagination. "I didn't know. Sorry."

The silence is adulterated only by the distant mechanical hum of the refrigerator.

"Anybody else, then?" Kisara asks, swiveling her chair away from Seto to face her computer terminal once again.

"Sorry."


	5. IV

He doesn't hear from the mysterious _Atem_ for one day. One day stretches into two days, stretches into a week without hearing from the anonymous blackmailer. The bags under Kisara's eyes darken until their rich indigo color is almost as striking as the sapphire of her eyes. Seto's brain starts to throb even after coffee and prescription migraine medication. _Atem_ lurks in the shadows everywhere, making it impossible for Seto to sleep or even spend time alone, so he begins to work through the nights in his underground workspace, emerging as the dawn breaks to continue his duties as the Kaiba Corporation CEO. After the first sleepless night, Kisara starts working through the nights with him, sleeping with her head rested on a pillow laid over her keyboard. He is grateful for her unspoken gesture of camaraderie, and even if they rarely speak, he begins to feel comforted by her calm and focused presence, and the unwavering strength of her determination as she trudges on through their monotonous work. On the third sleepless night, Kisara informs him that her employer believes she is on vacation.

"Visiting family," she says, unloading a plastic grocery bag of coffee creamers and swiss rolls into the refrigerator. "All my vacation days for this year."

"You didn't have to do that."

Kisara shrugs, slamming the refrigerator door behind her. The empty grocery bag skitters across the floor, settling in a dark corner. "I don't have family," she replies. "Don't worry about it."

He does not ask her to elaborate. Mostly they work in silence, meticulously working their way through Kaiba Corp expense reports and employee documentation. They follow the digital trail of the Young Paladins foundation all the way back to it's inception, and when they come up empty, Seto slams his fist against the table, and Kisara suggests that they go out and get a hot meal, instead of downing swiss rolls and instant coffee. They find themselves dumped unceremoniously into the Domino City dusk, shoving their hands into their pockets as the shiver in the early-Spring wind.

X

She leads him into a diner with white linoleum on the floors and the walls and the countertops. A black-haired waitress with almond-shaped brown eyes and a tired smile leads them to a high table in the back, and Kisara orders a basket of fries, which they nibble on halfheartedly, avoiding each other's eyes.

Seto speaks first. "You've done all you can," he says. "I think it's over."

Kisara snaps a French fry in half, squeezing out the insides. "I won't give up," she says firmly. "We can keep working, keep up with the search."

"It's just a waiting game," Seto snaps back coldly. "I won't have it on my conscience if you go down with me."

"Well, I won't have it on my conscience if I don't try my best to catch a child trafficker." She spits out the last words, scrunching up her face with displeasure. "It's not just about you, Seto Kaiba."

Seto nods, and the room suddenly lurches around him. The air feels like it has dropped several dozen degrees, and the fragrance of coffee and grease that hangs over the diner like a fog threatens to suffocate him. As strong and resilient as the world has shaped him to be, patience has always been a sort of afterthought to Seto-he was never patient in waiting for his chance to duel Yugi and reclaim his rightful title as the King of Games, and he was not patient in executing his ruthless scheme when Gozaburo gave him the final task that would cement his position as the heir to the Kaiba Corporation, and he had not waited patiently for a family to take in both him and Mokuba when they were children. His life had been shaped by his own actions, and the act of waiting is more agonizing to him than anything else he had ever experienced.

"I can't take this." Feeling strangely like an observer in his own body, Seto reaches into his coat pocket, retrieving his phone. His mind is curiously blank, and his heart is calm as he scrolls through his messages, looking for _Atem_ ….

"Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?" Kisara's voice, slightly shrill with alarm, slices through his reverie. His head snaps upwards and he finds himself eye-to-eye with a startled Kisara.

"This ends now."

Kisara shakes her head, pressing one palm to her temple. "What...what on earth does that even mean?" she asks softly.

Seto slides the phone across the table towards her, and lifts his chin. "If all this idiot wanted to do was take me down, he would have done so already. He wants to gloat. We should save ourselves the effort and just cut to the chase already."

Kisara's dark eyes widen with alarm. "That hardly sounds prudent."

"Screw prudent. I'm done with this."

X

 _Seto: I'm through with letting you toy with me. This ends now._

 _Atem: SO YOU'VE FAILED TO IDENTIFY ME._

 _Atem: DESPITE YOUR BEST EFFORTS._

 _Seto: If you're going to try to ruin my company and my reputation, then just do it already. You don't have to hurt anyone else._

 _Atem: GAME OVER?_

 _Seto: Game over._

The next message contains geographic coordinates on a map of Domino City. A small red digital pin is placed at the docks in East Domino. Seto squints, zooming in on the location, but there are no businesses or storefronts near the pinned location.

 _Atem: AS YOU WISH._

 _Atem: TOMORROW NIGHT._


	6. V

_**Apparently, I'm really terrible at remembering to post updates on things. This story has been written for awhile now, and I was holding off on posting the later chapters because it was my first attempt at writing something in which continuity plays a very major role, and I was on the lookout for plot holes. Then...months passed xD Thank you to everyone who has read up to this point-I appreciate it very, very much! Have the rest of the story :3**_

She hasn't been back to her apartment in days. Everything smells like stale air and the pot of molding rice she had abandoned on her stovetop. Too exhausted to deal with cleaning, she throws the lid on the pot and sticks it into the freezer before collapsing onto her couch, staring at the dust on the floor.

Seto's decision to confront his blackmailer should be more of a relief than it is. After he paid the tab for their basket of fries, he called a taxi for her, telling her to go home and rest.

" _It's over, Kisara. Go home."_

" _I just…"_

" _This isn't a discussion. There's nothing left for you to do."_

" _You shouldn't meet him alone…"_

" _Even so, go get some rest. We can talk about it in the morning."_

Kisara sighs, closing her eyes. After so many days in the constant but silent presence of Seto Kaiba, she feels strangely vulnerable alone.

Days of sleep deprivation have pushed her to her breaking point. She sighs, grabbing a flimsy cotton blanket and pulling it over her shoulders, and sleep claims her in a matter of minutes. Her dreams are unclear but unsettling, with ominous figures lurking in the shadows and the bright, fearful eyes of nameless children peeking out at her behind the blinking green cursor on a black terminal screen.

* * *

Kisara is waiting in his office before his secretary arrives, nursing a paper cup of coffee. The heavy purple-blue bags under her eyes remain, but her hair looks freshly washed, gleaming like gossamer in the weak, watery light that streams through the office window.

Seto spots her the moment he steps out of the elevator. His eyes narrow at her. "I thought I told you to go home and sleep."

Kisara strides quickly across the room to walk side-by-side with him. Seto catches a whiff of vanilla and lavender, and the gentle scent makes him blush. "I did," she responds firmly. "We need to talk about you meeting up with this _Atem_ character."

"Not up for discussion."

"I know. I want to come with you."

Seto freezes halfway to opening the doors to his office. "You _what_?" he demands incredulously.

Kisara folds her arms across her chest. "You need backup," she points out fairly. "It might be dangerous, Seto."

A soft beep registers Seto's key card, and the heavy doors to his office open. "I have a gun," he responds coolly. "You're not even my employee, Kisara. I absolutely will not put your life in danger."

He can hear Kisara huff softly. "I can track your cell phone coordinates," she says stubbornly.

A long sigh escapes his lips. "Well, then. I can't stop you, I suppose."

* * *

It still bothers him. He had always known that the ghosts of Seto Kaiba's past would come back for him someday, and despite Seto's genuine repentance for his actions as a teen, Joey still hadn't managed to find it in himself to fully forgive him. What bothers him is that Seto is poised to take a fall for something he _didn't_ do. In the grand scheme of the universe, given everything that Seto _had_ done, it hardly seemed fair.

Joey sighs, setting his pen down momentarily to rest his head in the crook of his elbow. None of the children who had gone missing from the sanctuary were cases assigned to him, and thus so far he has had minimal involvement with the police investigation. Still, it is hard not to feel the grim and fearful mood that grips the Children's Sanctuary like a clinging fog as uniformed policemen and crisply-suited detectives become regulars in the hallways. Even children that are too young to understand the magnitude of the situation that is occurring, are frightened by the twice-daily head counts and strict new rules regarding outdoor playtime. On this endlessly gloomy Wednesday, the sun was overtaken in the early afternoon by charcoal clouds that crackle ominously, swollen with bursts of lightning that occasionally light them from within, glowing faintly with supercharged white light.

"Joe. A moment?" Joey's head jerks upwards, and he sheepishly blinks sleep from his eyes. Gavin Steinborn swims into focus, wearing a black windbreaker over a crumpled work shirt.

"Yeah. Gavin. Everything cool?" Cringing at his own words, he amends, "I mean….well, you know what I mean."

The door swings closed, and Gavin heaves himself into the chair that sits across from Joey. "I need a favor, all right? We're going to have a movie night for the kids. I pulled some strings with a buddy who works for a film studio, and they're going to screen one of their kid's movies here tonight. It's not even out in the cinemas yet."

Joey finds himself smiling, and he leans forwards in his seat. "Great," he offers encouragingly, tilting his head as he gets a closer look at the face of his superior. Everything at the Children's Sanctuary is growing lifeless and weary, but Gavin has been taking the investigation the worst out of everyone. His golden-brown hair seems to be receding and thinning on his forehead, and a few untamed strands have managed to work their way loose from his signature coif, splaying themselves across his forehead. The tie under the black windbreaker looks a little crumpled.

"I was going to supervise the movie night myself, but I have to duck out for a couple of minutes around eight. Do you think you could hang back tonight and help to supervise the movie night?"

"Eh, sure, why not. I'm not doing anything tonight, anyways." Joey smiles at Gavin, giving him a quick thumbs-up gesture. "All right, you're on."

Gavin smiles at him. "Thanks. It'll be good for the press to see the kids getting to enjoy themselves, instead of just focusing on the police investigation...and it'll be a good distraction for the kids, too."

"I couldn't agree more," Joey responds. "So, great hall, I'm guessing?"

Gavin nods at him, standing to leave. "You're a lifesaver." The man pauses in the door frame, then turns back to Joey. "Another thing, Wheeler. The police were reviewing our records over the past few months...you had a meeting with a cyber security consultant?"

Joey frowns. "It was just a girl I met," he says, running his hand uneasily through his puffy blond hair. He winces as images of Kisara Endo, with her thin shoulders and dark eyes, her lips pursed around the name _Seto Kaiba…_

"Friend of a friend introduced us," he says, trying his best to sound nonchalant. "She's kind of my type, and I mentioned at a friend's kick-back that I worked at the Children's Sanctuary, so she asked me if I wanted to do lunch. Haven't gotten around to it yet." He channels his tension into wiggling the computer mouse on his desk, although the computer is too deep in hibernation to respond.

A shadow crosses Gavin's face, and a brief, unsettling expression that flashes through the man's green gaze gives Joey pause for a moment. Then Gavin shakes his head, re-combing his stray bangs into position, and smiles at Joey. "You're a good guy," he says cheerily. "Be there by nine, okay? You don't have to stay the whole time, I'll be back soon enough. Thanks for being my backup, man."


	7. VI

Grimacing, Seto pulls open the door, which yawns open and nails him with a gust of air that reeks of mildew and brine. Resisting the powerful urge to retch, he shines the flashlight beam into the darkness. The circular room is empty, spare a damp, rusted staircase that rises from the center of the room, spiraling upwards into the dark. Keeping the gun steadied in both hands, Seto scans the room, shuffling cautiously. He is painfully aware of the way that the damp walls amplify every noise that he makes; even the sound of his quick, shallow breaths is audible, revealing his presence to anyone hiding in the dark.

 _Early_ , he thinks to himself, having bounced the beam of light emitted from his weapon off every surface in the room. He holds his breath for a moment, listening for any noise that would indicate the presence of another, but the only noise is the sound of condensation dripping from the ceiling, echoing loudly in the abandoned room.

"Oh, Seto. You'll never cease to disappoint me." Seto's heart lurches at the sound of a voice from high above, and he tips his head upwards, scanning the staircase frantically for the speaker.

Straining his neck to catch a better glimpse, Seto aims his pistol upwards, probing desperately into the darkness in search of its' target. The man trapped in the feeble yellow beam is poised at the top of the staircase, with one hand rested on the wrought-iron railing. His light brown hair is slicked away from his face, and he wears a white work-shirt with a maroon pinstriped tie. As recognition crashes onto Seto at once, he struggles to maintain his grip on the pistol, feeling his muscles slacken with shock.

"Gavin," he says weakly, silently urging his knees not to tremble.

The man smiles sadly, shaking his head. "You're not as smart as I thought you'd be, Seto," he replies. "Now, now. I thought you would have known." Gavin begins his descent down the staircase, with each step reverberating through the room. As the shock begins to ebb, Seto trains his sight on Gavin, keeping it locked onto him as he progresses down the staircase.

"For the love of goodness, Seto. If you wanted to shoot me on sight, you would have done so already. Don't insult us both-put that thing down." As he steps onto the slimy cement floor of the lighthouse, Gavin makes a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist.

Unflinching, Seto bares his teeth in a snarl. Gavin moves closer to Seto, raising his hand above his head.

"Come now, Seto. I'm not going to hurt you. You're pretty much done." The man stops a few feet from the barrel of Seto's pistol, then adjusts his tie and runs his hand casually through his hair. "You're too late, guy. The files have been leaked to the press, incriminating _you_ as the leader of a child smuggling ring. And, just to top it off, you…." his voice trails off, and his head tilts as he pretends to think for a moment, "...will have shot the director of the orphanage, who figured out your sick scheme, and tried to stop you."

Seto's eyes narrow, but he lowers his gun. Gavin claps his hands together provocatively, sneering at the dark-haired man. "Oh, well done. You're not as foolish as I thought you might be."

"H-how could you do this?" Seto demands incredulously. "Why the _fuck_ would you use these kids in-in your game?"

Gavin sighs with mock impatience. "Oh please, Seto. Let's not pretend that human life has any value in this game that we play." He pauses, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Seto to respond; met with hostile silence, he continues, "You're no better than I am. You tortured people into madness, you drove people to suicide, you forced people to play your manipulative little death-games. Don't play that little schtick, Seto-it's not going to work. Not on me."

"I'm not th"-

"Oh, great! _Here we go_! You're not...what? You're not the person that you were then? I'm afraid we're going to have to agree to disagree.

You fancy yourself as one of the good guys, Seto," he says, folding his arms across his chest. "You lied and you killed and you cheated and you stole, and you think you can be exonerated of that, if you do enough good in the world." His green eyes narrow mockingly. "You want to believe you can bury the person that you were then. Seto, I _know_ you." He waves one hand through the air, sneering. "You think you're gonna be this crusader for those who don't have a voice...you think you can turn all that guilt into something constructive." Gavin rolls his eyes. "Honestly, how insulting to the good people of Domino City, Seto. Do you really think you have them wrapped so tightly around your finger-that you can change the narrative, just like _that_?" For emphasis, he raises one hand in the air, snapping his fingers together; the sharp noise echoes through the dark, empty space for a moment, reverberating off of the damp walls. "You're not better than Gozaburo Kaiba, Seto. You're _worse_ , because at least, he knew who he was."

"Shut _up!_ " Seto growls. Shaking slightly, he raises the pistol in his hands, pointing it at the other man.

Gavin's eyes roll. "Or- _what,_ Seto? Please-indulge me." He pouts, as if he is frustrated at being trifled with. "You thought you were going to come in here, and what...duel some logic into me? I've never understood how that whole thing worked. But Seto, you lured the director of one of the most underprivileged orphanages in Domino City into an abandoned basement, and you're going to- _what?-_ shoot him?" He sighs. "And you think you're going to change your story.

You think the world owes you another chance at goodness, Seto. I'm telling you, Seto, the world doesn't owe you _shit_. You had your fun running rampant and doing your damage. You're done for good."

"Why, then?"

"Why what, Seto? Why did you, over every other kid just like you, deserve to rise out of the ashes like a stupid goddamn phoenix? Why did you get to save your little brother, too, when my brother never got the chance to save me? Why does the world look at you like some kind of inspirational fucking hero, when you're nothing more than a shady crook?" His voice breaks, and his last question comes out as a pained rasp. "Why did you take my brother from the streets, and torture him with your damn technology? Why, Seto? Why anything?"

Seto's eyes widen. "Gavin, I-"

"Do everyone a favor, and just shut the _fuck_ up for once."

Seto's teeth clench, and he lowers his hands. "Kill me, then."

Gavin's green eyes widen with delight. "You're a damn coward, Seto," he responds. "I'm not going to deprive the world of watching you fall apart before them. You wanted to rebrand yourself as the phoenix, the boy who rose from nothing and conquered their inner demons to become a force of good in the world. Tonight, everyone will finally _know_ you for the madman that you are." The look in his eyes is downright maniacal. "And I want you to watch." Before Seto has a chance to react to his words, Gavin lunges forwards, landing a kick square into Seto's stomach. Caught off-guard, Seto drops the gun, staggering desperately to regain his weapon as Gavin kicks it away, and it skitters off across the floor and into the darkness.

"Not like that," Gavin says coldly. "Not so easy, Seto. You're going to watch as you're exposed to the whole world for the man you really are." The man's knee drives into Seto's chest, knocking the wind out of him, and Seto yelps as he feels pain explode in his chest. Gavin swings at head, knocking him to the floor, and kicks him square in the temple. Seto groans, tasting grime and salt on the ground as the world fades to black.

X

 _This is how it ends_ , he thinks to himself as his eyelids flutter open. His head pounds with an excruciatingly dull, heavy pain that bursts in flashes of light behind his eyes. Gavin stands over him with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes narrowed, and somewhere in the corner of his mind Seto realizes that there isn't anything stopping him from leaving, except for the fact that he knows it's all over.

The air is heavy with the scent of brine, and the only sound comes from the condensation dripping from the ceiling. Entirely undone, Seto rests his forehead against the cold stone floor. Everything he worked so hard for is gone. Worse yet, lives were ruined in his name, the lives of the young children he had sworn to defend.

A sharp pain jolts him, and he flops over onto his back. Gavin stands over him, with a rubber-soled shoe poised over his face. "For goodness' sake, man," he says. "I thought you'd have more in you."

Too overcome with anguish to speak, Seto groans, rolling onto his stomach as he anticipates the blunt force of Gavin's sole colliding with the back of his skull….

...Instead, he hears the obnoxious screeching of rusted metal hinges, and the soft _tap_ of Gavin's sole on the pavement as he lowers his foot.

"Hold it!"

Reeling with confusion, Seto props himself up on his elbow, craning his neck for a better view of the door. A small, silhouetted figure stands in the doorway, illuminated by the pale light from the docks outside. Their knees are bent, and their arms stretched in front of them. He can see the shape of a handgun clasped between their hands, and soft silver-white hair falls in a thick braid over their shoulder.

 _Kisara._ Utterly confused, he pushes himself to a sitting position. Keeping a low, crouched position as she moves, Kisara makes her way towards the center of the room, her gun trained, to his surprise, on Gavin. "It's over," she says, her voice cold and hard.

Seto turns his attention towards Gavin. The triumphant glimmer in the man's falters slightly, and he wheels about to face Kisara, narrowing his eyes but saying nothing. Confused, Seto pushes himself to his feet, staring at Kisara. "Ex-explain yourself," he rasps, discovering his voice is caught in his throat.

Kisara's dark blue eyes dart back and forth as they size up Gavin. Looking slightly disoriented, the man blinks at her, biting at his lip before he cautiously raises his hands above his head.

Apparently satisfied, Kisara lowers her gun and reaches into her pocket, holding up something small and rectangular that glints in the low light. "Game over," she hisses; Seto is startled by the malice in her low, husky voice. "Gotcha. The police are coming."

An undeniable flicker of doubt crosses Gavin's face. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asks, struggling to maintain his silky demeanor.

"I got into your computer," Kisara responds. The soft contours of her face shift as she smiles triumphantly.

"N-not possible," Gavin rasps. Seto tenses, expecting him to fly towards Kisara in an attempt to recover whatever she holds in her hand, but Gavin is frozen in place.

"Quite possible, actually. You're not as advanced as you think you are, Gavin. You were relying on the fact that you're so _innocent,_ the poor director of this poor little orphanage. You didn't expect you were going to be vetted." Her lips curl with unmistakable pride as she adds, "especially not by an expert in cyber-security."

Gavin shakes his head rapidly, unable to process what Kisara is saying. "No. No," he says firmly. "Seto Kaiba deleted the records of the missing children from the Children's Sanctuary. And money for those children-that money was sent to Seto Kaiba."

Kisara rolls her eyes. "Do yourself a favor," she says coldly. "Just stop. It's all here-all of the records from your computer." Gavin lunges towards her, and she takes a step back, tossing the drive away from her. "Don't worry. You _do_ know that you can make copies of things, right? The police have everything they need. I don't want to know how you hacked the Young Paladins database. You _did,_ and you impersonated Mr. Kaiba, and it's all in the hands of the police. It's over." Seto can hear the distant wailing of police sirens begin to strengthen, growing from a soft whine into a piercing howl. "It's over."

Seto stares numbly, his head throbbing as the room floods with flashing lights, cherry red and bright blue.


	8. Epilogue

He falls asleep in a chair at the police station, and the endless rounds of questioning smear together in his mind. He catches glimpses of stringy-haired, exhausted Kisara throughout, and as he finally collects his belongings to leave, he spots her sipping from a styrofoam cup, reading a magazine in the lobby.

"I was was waiting for you," she remarks, standing up and crossing the room to stand shoulder-to-shoulder as soon as she sees him.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

Kisara smiles softly, draining the contents of her styrofoam cup and tossing it underhand into a waste bin. "Because you've been through hell," she says simply. "And because I was wondering what you were going to say, about how I saved your guts, and all."

Seto is too exhausted to feel or say anything, and stands frozen before Kisara, his eyes blankly fixed on her cable-knit navy-blue cardigan. Despite her disheveled state, Seto has to admit that she is really very pretty.

"Alright, you don't have to say anything, for now. You know….I could really use a drink, huh?"

X

He agrees numbly, allowing himself to be herded by the young woman as she guides him into a taxi and from the taxi into a quiet booth at a bar at the edge of town, where strings of Christmas lights hang from the ceilings in a pseudo-elegant fashion that he would be inclined to mock, if he weren't so tired. She orders a whiskey sour from a light-haired cocktail waiter, and when Seto finds himself struggling for words, she smiles sympathetically at him and orders him a black coffee.

"How did you do it?" Seto asks numbly as the waiter disappears into the kitchen.

Kisara tilts her head, frowning. "It was Mr. Wheeler, actually, who called me. He said that something felt off about a conversation he had with the director of the Children's Sanctuary. And starting from there, it wasn't too bad; he wasn't too good at covering up his tracks, because I think he was operating on the assumption that he wasn't going to get caught." She sighs deeply, loosening her snow-white hair from it's tired, frazzled braid and shaking her head to let the strands settle onto her shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't figure it out earlier."

Seto shakes his head. "I couldn't ask for more from you," he responds.

They sit in silence for a moment. Seto stares at her, taking in her smudged charcoal-gray eyeliner and milky-pale skin and wide, gentle, dark blue eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

He watches the pale pink lips purse into a slight, curious pout. "Mmm-hmm?"

"What made you believe in me?"

"What?"

Seto leans back, closing his eyes briefly. "Why did you go through all these lengths to try to clear my name? It would have been so much easier to start from the assumption that I was truly what the records would have you believe that I was."

"Hmmmm…" Kisara pauses, motioning with a quick flick of her eyebrows at the cocktail waiter, who sets a glass of amber-colored liquid in front of her, and a steaming mug of coffee in front of Seto. When he leaves, her lips tug into a thoughtful, asymmetric grimace, and a quiet, thoughtful noise purrs from the back of her throat.

"I just knew," she says finally. "When you called me into your office, something about your eyes told me that you weren't the one."

Seto frowns, taking a long sip of coffee, which burns like acid as it pours down his throat. He shudders at the weak, sour taste, but says nothing, narrowing his eyes at Kisara. "I've done bad things, Kisara. You'd be a fool to trust in a man's innocence based on a mere hunch."

Kisara sighs, running her hand through her hair. "I know," she sighs. "Gavin's computer…there were records of him cracking into your account and manipulating the records, but it had those…" she shudders, shaking her head violently, "...videos. I saw."

His heart sinks, and he feels a bitter taste rise in his throat. "I see."

She frowns, pushing her cup in a small circle on the table. "Don't worry, I deleted them before I turned the evidence over."

Seto can feel his eyes stretch wide. "Why….why would you do that?" he demands incredulously.

She frowns, pressing her tongue against the side of her cheek. "I….I'm not sure," she says uncomfortably, dipping her head to avoid his gaze. She stirs the melting ice in her glass, and Seto drums his fingers against the handle of his coffee mug as they each wait for the other to speak.

"Okay, I do know," she confesses finally. "I just...I've heard so much about you, Seto. I watched you when you were just a kid hosting Battle City. I remember all of those speeches you used to give, about how we aren't defined by our past." She lifts her glass, sipping delicately at her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. "When I met you in person, you were so shaken up. It wasn't because someone was planning to drag you through the mud, it was because of what they'd _done_. I could tell." She tilts her head, twirling a strand of white hair around her index finger. "So, um. That's it."

A smile manages to break through Seto's hard, exhausted veneer. "I appreciate that."

Kisara's eyebrows furrow for a moment, but her eyes meet his, and she lifts her chin as he returns her stare, proudly and confidently matching his gaze. "Well, that's what you believe, isn't it? That everyone deserves a second chance?"

Her eyes are a startling dark blue, a subtle sapphire hue that challenges him to look closer. He frowns at her words, remarking, "Well, it's up for you to make your own decisions. What do you think?"

"Of course," she responds evenly. She breaks their unspoken staring match to take a sip of her drink, and the pang of disappointment he feels to have her eyes off of him unsettles him a little bit. "I mean….that's got to be the worst of it, right? Maybe you finally have your second chance."

His lips press into a wry smirk. "We'll just have to see."


End file.
